Over the Golden Sea
by LuxAmbrose
Summary: Eomer is prepared to rule and rebuild Rohan. In the process he will rebuild his own life, finding a love that surpasses his reckoning. Lothiriel was ready to fall in love with her prince charming. Eomer didn't fit the mold, but was a perfect fit anyway.
1. Prologue: Rylynn

**A/N: I have wanted to write an LOTR fic for ages that was actually decent enough to post. This is the beginning of what I hope is that product. I adore Eomer…both in the books and in the films (Karl Urban is incredible…I also adore him.) **

**Anyway this is going to be my take on his marriage to Lothiriel beginning with their first meeting and going on until who knows. I have a tentative timeline, so we'll see how much changes. I am going to try and stay as in strict canon with the novels, but there are a few tweaks here and there I will take from the films. Also: I will not be using accent marks over the names…this is mainly a result of my laziness…if my lack of accent marks offends you then you have my apologies.**

**Chapter names will be titled from songs…they will be tied into the writing somehow, whether I listened to that song while writing, the title reminds me of the chapter or the song itself reminds me of a character etc. Rylynn is a song by Andy McKee. The guitar really helped set a tranquil morning for our two characters to meet!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. But you already knew that didn't you?**

**Prologue**

An orange sun rose over the White City, sending warm rays over the blossoming tree and the courtyard. It was yet early and most of the city lay sleeping, having exhausted itself the night previous. Each night drew in a new feast and a new reason to celebrate, especially as each new stone began to rebuild the city almost lost. Servants milled about the halls of the palace, flitting to and fro with fresh linens, jugs of juice and trays of food.

Eomer observed all of this as he walked the halls towards the courtyard. His long hair was pulled away from his face, and he wore a dark green linen shirt over breeches and plain boots. It was simple clothing for an early morning walk. After three very long weeks he still was not sleeping, the nightmares waking him into a constant state of mourning and grief. So, instead of tossing and turning in his bed, Eomer rose to greet the day and spent those precious few moments alone. This morning was no different from his now firmly settled routine.

As he stepped outside the late April morning greeted him, and he paused to close his eyes and let the sun settle over his face. It was a nice feeling, and he rubbed a hand over his now closely cropped beard. "Another morning of peace," he murmured to himself and started out towards the stone wall that served as a rail.

The sight, as always, was breathtaking. Smoke was still rising from Mordor, yet there was no longer fire or dark clouds obstructing the view. Settled between the gates and the White City was Osgiliath, still in ruins. The new King had ordered the rebuilding of Minas Tirith's defenses as the primary concern. Osgiliath would have to wait until the safe hold was restored.

Eomer wondered idly what would be happening in Edoras. Letters sent word of the stewards continuing the defenses and beginning to press the remains of the enemy from their lands. Soon, he hoped, he would be returning to the Golden Hall to lead his people. After all, he mused, he was now King. Or at least he would be after his own coronation.

A peal of laughter stole his attention, breaking his thoughts. The sound reached his ears and reminded him of light and airy music, almost elvish were it not for the smoky tone laced through. Turning his head he watched as a young woman practically floated into the courtyard. Immediately he found himself wishing he had bothered to tie back his loose hair, or at least wear something more than a simple shirt and breeches.

This stranger was not looking at him, but reading a letter. Absently she held a bright red apple in her hand, not looking where she was going as she read. Her dress was simple, pale lilac and constructed of light material that frothed about her as she walked. He noted with a slight twitch in his lips that she was barefoot and her glossy black hair in shining waves that spilled over her shoulders. Altogether she presented a pleasing figure, standing at an average height for a woman and slender in build. Eomer noted with a small hint of satisfaction that beneath the layers of breathy fabric were subtle curves worth appreciating.

The woman laughed again as she continued to read on and was walking straight for a stone bench. At first Eomer thought she was walking to sit but it became immediately apparent that she had no idea it was in front of her. "I would stop were I you," he called and she came to an immediate halt not two meters from the bench.

Surprise took her features just as it stormed his mind. A pair of eyes the brightest green he had ever seen was fixed on him. They were set in a pale face, in features more delicate than he was used to seeing in women. That did not make her any less lovely in his eyes. "My hero," she said at last and a smile took her face that nearly took his breath. "I suppose this should teach me to watch where I tread," she said and folded her letter, tucking it away into the pocket of her dress.

Eomer watched as she approached where he stood. It seemed her eyes were also appraising him and he wondered what she thought. "Lucky you had a warning this time," he said gently and inclined his head.

"You are Lord Eomer," she said and his eyebrows rose.

However he knew his manners and he placed a hand to his chest and nodded. "I am," and then he bowed. "My Lady."

When he looked up another, sweeter smile was on her face. "I am Princess Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil," she said and dipped in a formal curtsey. "I am pleased to meet you, Lord of Rohan." There was a glint of pleased curiosity in her eyes and the smile still toyed at her lips.

Eomer found himself curious of this strange woman. "May I ask how you knew me?"

This time she laughed and a delicate pink blush took her features. "You are a favorite among the ladies' maids my Lord," was all she said and vaguely at that. So she was to be mysterious, this Princess of Dol Amroth, yet Eomer could not pretend he was displeased as this piece of information. He was a man, and as such always appreciated praise from the gentler sex. "Now it is my turn to ask a question," she said and he gave her a brief nod indicating it was all right. "What brings you out so early this morning? I did not think Kings and great Lords rose before nine."

It was a startlingly personal question but nonetheless he was compelled to answer. "I do not sleep much these days. Events past trouble my thoughts," he said and then looked into her eyes. There was much more contained in them than he originally saw.

"A noble warrior who fought in many battles during the War of the Ring? I cannot see how your thoughts wouldn't be troubled," she said gently and after a moment of thought offered him her apple. It was a simple gesture and a sweet one at that, another piece of an intriguing puzzle that made up this Lothiriel. He accepted it and their fingers brushed.

"Thank you," he said and stared at the perfect red fruit before taking a bite. After he swallowed he regarded her a moment. "I suppose then the turn is mine?" A small grin returned to her lovely face. Eomer decided in that moment he preferred her smiling. "What was in your letter that diverted your attention so?"

The grin widened. Absently she pushed her glossy waves over her shoulder. "A letter from my brother at home. Amrothos is watching the lands in my father's stead. He sends his good tidings to me as well as several stories that might give me reason to smile."

"Reason?" He questioned and she tipped her head lower, averting her eyes.

"I believe you know my father was wounded in the Battle of Morannon. That's why I'm here, I was sent to help tend to him, he has no fondness for medicine and makes for a difficult patient," she said and shrugged her shoulders. Eomer noticed that the neck of her dress cut wide and fell just to the edge of her shoulders. Her collar was pronounced as it curved up to her elegant neck. With a jolt he realized she had the same handsome and delicate features as her father, who had elven lineage.

"Most men make for difficult patients," he said and her laughter filled his ears once again.

Absently he took another bite of the apple. "Yes, but most men don't get frustrated with the nurses and hurl bedpans at the doorway as they flee." Eomer didn't have to try and conjure the thought. He had come to know Imrahil quite well in the last weeks and had heard much about his beloved daughter. It was a wonder he did not recognize his features in her immediately.

He was about to reply when a voice cried from the other side of the courtyard. Upon looking up he found a handmaiden rushing toward them. "My lady Lothiriel! You were supposed to be dressing for breakfast half an hour ago!" Quickly the homely girl skidded to a halt and curtsied to both of them. "My Lord Eomer," she said breathless.

The urge to smile was almost impossible to avoid as Eomer noted the blush rise in the maiden's cheeks. Apparently Lothiriel was correct about the maids. "I am sorry my Lord I must take my leave."

"My Lady," he said and bowed as the handmaiden suddenly whisked her away. He watched her brown waves swing behind her and wondered if Lothiriel would be wearing shoes the next time he saw her.

**The prologue is short…I just wanted them to meet so Eomer could form his first impression. The bulk of the story will be written in third person through Lothiriel's vantage. It will switch every so often to another character.**

**Please tell me what you think, reviews are love—Brose**


	2. Brand New Day

**A/N: Yay for the first real chapter! To be completely honest I'm not entirely sure where the story is going to go but I've got a general idea. This chapter serves as a bit of an introduction to some of the key characters. I want to establish Lothiriel and Eomer's relationships with friends and family. **

**Thank you for the incredible reviews! I reply to reviews through PM's so you can always expect that from me. I was really surprised when there was so much positive response, ya'll are great!**

**The song here is Brand New Day by Joshua Radin. No particular reason, but I like the lighthearted feel of the song. It certainly fits with Lothiriel and Faramir's easy relationship. I'll get better at picking songs, and also I love suggestions!**

**Disclaimer: You should know by now what's mine and what isn't.**

**Chapter One**

The healing house of Minas Tirith was still overflowing with the recovering some four weeks after the end of the war. Healers in white smocks flitted from ward to ward, carrying trays laden with salves and draughts. Rays of the late spring sun filtered through stained glass windows, set deep into the main hall where nurses sat in groups washing and rolling bandages. Among the organized chaos a slender woman helped support a middle aged man down the hall.

They shared the same dark hair and while her eyes were brilliant green his were a fierce iron grey. It was plain to see their relation, for they shared the same elegant and delicate features. "Father if you would just wait a few more days the Healer Melethon will release you."

Patience in the face of idleness had never been Imrahil's greatest asset. Grimacing, the prince leaned heavily on her, using the walking stick as support in his other hand. "Nonsense," he said crossly but squeezed his daughter's shoulder all the same. "If I stay in bed any longer I will miss the coronation."

Lothiriel lifted her eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer to whoever might listen. All she wanted was her father well and to see her family reunited. However, it would not hurt to see her stubborn father gain some measure of patience. For her sake and sanity at the very least. "If you keep prolonging your stay by sneaking out you will miss the coronation father. Do not make me send for Healer Brenelain. For I know she does not fear your temper and will have a sleeping draught put on you if you don't behave," her voice was light with a smile but she knew her father would catch the intent in her words. Indeed the good color drained from his face and a frown creased lines into his forehead, partially obscured by his dark hair. Reaching out she brushed it away from his eyes, trying not to laugh at his reaction.

"Surely my own daughter would not betray me so," he said. Chuckling, she steered him into his private room where two nurses awaited.

"You may try if you like, I fear you will find my will like iron." It was Imrahil's turn to laugh. However as he did a cough bubbled from his throat and he winced in pain. Lothiriel's smile slipped from her face and instead slid her shoulder higher under his arm and straightened her back higher. This action managed to pull her father further upright and she tightened her grip on him.

As they came in the door the nurses broke into a flurry of activity. Bandages were unrolled and a basin of hot water was carried in. "Medicine," he scoffed, warily eyeing the herbs that were being crushed and mixed with the water. Lothiriel sighed as she saw the scowl return, the same expression that had haunted his face as of late.

Casting a sympathetic glance at the trembling girls, Lothiriel helped her father back into bed. Quietly she let him undo the fastens on his shirt and she lifted her green eyes to level with his. Giving him the best imitation of her mother's glare, Lothiriel also provided her warning. "Be nice father, else I shall tell your Lordly friends how you quell before a simple healing salve."

Imrahil glared back but then the expression broke into a smile that did no reach his sad eyes. "You are just like your mother Lothiriel. Eru bless whomever you marry for they will get away with nothing."

Lothiriel's heart tightened at his words, yet she said nothing and kissed the top of her father's head before straightening up. Carefully she pulled away the right side of his shirt to reveal the bandages wrapped around his entire torso. Between the two nurses and her they managed to clean and rebandage the slowly healing spear wound in his side. For once Imrahil seemed to heed his daughter's threats and was a model patient, waiting until the last nurse departed before turning his shining eyes to his daughter. "That wasn't so hard was it?" She teased, her good-natured smile restored to her face.

"I am glad you are here Lothiriel," he said and raised a hand to take hers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked down at their hands. "Many more nurses would have suffered my wrath had you not arrived. I know you miss Belfalas."

Looking to the open window in the room, she thought of the sea at Dol Amroth. Attendants at the castle would be opening the halls and airing the palace out, preparing for the coming summer. Although Dol Amroth was mild for most of the year the winters still brought a hint of cold and with it the palace was boarded tight to prevent as much draft as possible. But soon the tapestries would be brought down and the velvet curtains replaced with light linen and lace.

Most of all the sea would be churning, carrying in warmer waters perfect for the hot months. Already Lothiriel could taste the salt in her mouth and looked forward to breaking her duties with afternoons in the long boats and swimming with her brothers. Closing her eyes she could almost see the white sands stretching over the small cove near the castle and the slate cliffs jutting out of the water, just high enough to leap from. "I miss home," she admitted and brought her eyes to her father.

Yet, more important than all the beaches and morning rides in the surf was the man sitting before her. Looking into his eyes she saw the shadows that had haunted them all, even in the face of years of peace the fear once experienced would never quite leave them. Lothiriel knew he mourned for much for her heart ached for the same reasons. So many soldiers would never return to their families, she had seen the funeral mounds on Pelennor. Then there was the loss of their kin. Although Lothiriel would not much affected by the death of her uncle, the loss of Boromir had been most upsetting.

"Tell me what you are thinking, it pains me to see you not smiling." Her father interrupted her thoughts and she looked up wide-eyed. Lothiriel did not try for a smile, and instead took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead.

"I am thinking that the sea will remain the same as always. There will be plenty of time to enjoy home later. For now I am happy to share this moment with you." There was a pause and they shared an affectionate look before she stared to help him sit up higher in his bed. "Perhaps when we are home you may take a day from your princely duties. We might ride in the surf and spend a day just the five of us?"

For the first time that afternoon a true smile took Imrahil's face. When Lothiriel handed him the reports from home and his book he covered her hand with his. "I will let you name the day." He looked down at the documents with an expression of distaste and then at his daughter. "I'm sure you have court gossip to attend to or one of your other brothers to bully, be gone and leave an old man in peace!"

Lothiriel chuckled and made for the door. "You are anything but old father." Then she took her leave, saying a small thanks to Eru that he was looking better everyday. Casting welcoming smiles to those who greeted her as she passed, Lothiriel wondered idly what exactly her brothers would be up to.

* * * * *

The prince of Dol Amroth was accorded lodging on the seventh level, a house set in shining white stone. A small courtyard led to the house and shut off from the street by an ornate iron gate. An arch rose above the gate and the keystone had an ornate swan carved into its face. As Lothiriel neared the gate she heard cheerful voices and from the doorway a pitch black dog came running.

"Hello Spots!" She said amicably, letting herself through the gate. With little regard for anything but the joy of seeing his mistress, the unusually named dog leapt onto its hind feet and pressed his paws against her stomach. Rolling her eyes she lovingly scratched the mutt behind his ears.

"Get away dog!" A voice hollered from the doorway. Looking up, Lothiriel smiled as she looked upon the handsome face of her middle brother. Erchirion strode across the small walkway and grabbed the dog by the scruff of his neck and forced him back down.

Fighting a laugh Lothiriel instead reached up and kissed her brother's cheek. "It is good you are better at maintaining your soldiers than you are your dog," she teased lightly, but failed to duck in time as he lightly cuffed the back of her head. Slinging an arm over her shoulder, Erchirion led her into the house where her eldest brother sat at the table polishing his armor.

Ever aware of his role as the future leader of Dol Amroth, Elphir was a humble yet capable man. At the moment he sat straight in his seat, his face turned to the intricate detail of his breastplate. Upon her entrance he looked up and inclined his head in a greeting but smiled when Lothiriel placed a kiss on top of his head. "Afternoon Iriel," he greeted her.

Out of the corner of her eye she noted Erchirion sliding a heavy suede jerkin over his shirt and breeches. "What are you up to Chirion?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Looking up, the middle prince didn't even bother hiding his wicked grin. "Practice courts. A few of the men are interested in crossing blades with our foreign friends. Plus cousin Faramir is finally able to get out and swing a blade. He wants to practice."

Moving across the room to the serving station, Lothiriel poured a goblet of cool wine and carried it to Elphir. He accepted it with gruff thanks, for he was busy trying to pull the grit embedded in the intricate etching. "I'm sure the crowd of Gondorian ladies who gather to watch have nothing to do with your decision to practice," she said wryly and shared a brief but amused glance with Elphir.

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Erchirion said absently, slinging his sword belt about his firm waist.

"He's far too busy bedding ladies' maids."

Lothiriel pulled a face and rounded on her beloved brother. "Don't you let me catch you stealing another one away to the stables. It's bad enough you lead them on." She scolded but knew her words would have little effect. As much as it sometimes displeased her, Lothiriel's brothers were now men and made their own decisions. No matter how ill thought out and idiotic they might be.

"Well, perhaps you should like to accompany us down and see that my attentions remain honorable." Lothiriel knew her time would be better served helping the house maids prepare for Amrothos' arrival but truth be told Lothiriel had little patience for house work. Sitting out on the practice courts was far more appealing.

"Alright," she said and looked down at the gauzy dress she wore. "Have you time for me to change?" She asked.

"Faramir is going to come here so we can walk together. We can wait." Quickly Lothiriel went up to her rooms and stripped out of the pale blue gown. Instead she pulled on a full skirt and high collared shirt. The shirt tucked neatly into her high waisted skirt revealing her narrow waist. She was pulling half of her hair back into a clumsy braid as she trotted down the stairs.

There in the doorway stood Faramir, handsome as ever. A genuine smile lit her face as she flew down the rest of the stair and threw her arms around him. "Easy cousin, I am healed but not fully recovered."

Pulling away, Lothiriel bit her lip guiltily. "I am sorry, it is just I am so happy to see you well." Luckily Faramir grinned widely at her before running a hand over his dark hair. Erchirion stood from where he was helping his brother.

"Sure cannot convince you to join?" Chirion asked, his voice indicating that he already knew the answer.

Casting his dark blue eyes from his work, Elphir shook his head. "I'm to meet with father and King Eomer of Rohan this evening before dinner. I will need to clean up before I go." Faramir absently took Lothiriel's arm and pulled it through his.

"I have much I wish to speak to you about dear cousin," he said leading her through the doorway. Lothiriel glanced up at him to see the brotherly affection in his eyes. It was in those moments that she regarded him as a fourth brother and not just her cousin. "Perhaps you will let me escort you to dinner this evening?"

"Of course you may. You will be much better company that Elphir or Chirion for one does not speak of anything but business and other does not speak for he is too busy stuffing his mouth." Faramir started to laugh as Chirion came to her other side and made to ruffle her hair.

Lothiriel managed to swat his hand away. "See if I rescue you from any unworthy suitors at the next court dinner."

"Oh that's alright," she said lightly as they steered out of the courtyard, leaving Spots to whine pitifully at the gate. The last noise they heard was Elphir shouting at the poor beast to shut up. "You need to spend your time at court functions looking for a wife."

Faramir briefly tensed under her hand. Lothiriel noticed but said nothing and instead kept her attention on her brother. "Stuffed dresses and empty heads make for interesting court ornaments but not suitable wives. You know that well Lothiriel." Erchirion scolded and she presented mock offense.

"I am a court lady dear brother. Are you saying I'm no more than an ornament?"

She knew he wouldn't rise to her bait, but it was fun to goad him nonetheless. "You are the highest ranking lady in court. Besides how could you possibly be empty headed when father kept you in lessons and you struggled to keep up with three wonderful brothers?" He asked, puffing his chest out jokingly.

Reaching out she slapped his back with a hard hand and he spluttered a cough. Faramir was laughing again. "I'm not so sure about the wonderful part, perhaps we should substitute it with absurd? What do you think Faramir?"

Grinning down at her the captain of Gondor pretended to stroke his chin in deep thought. "I was thinking arrogant myself."

Their playful banter continued on as they made their way towards the lane that opened to the practice courts kept on the seventh level. Only members of court or military leaders were allowed to use them, usually to display their talent rather than truly practice. As Lothiriel predicted the small platforms of seats overlooking the rings contained about a dozen Gondorian women. "I'd much rather take a horse down to the practice fields outside the gates." Whispered Faramir. "The remaining men of Rohan are camped down there you know. Apparently they are more adept on their feet than one might think."

"Good luck getting Chirion to go down there," said Lothiriel. She knew her brother was among the many men who did not use the practice courts for actual practice. "He can't resist showing off for those stuffed dresses."

Faramir bit the inside of his cheek and let her part ways as the two men opened the gate to one of the courts. "Lothiriel!" A voice cut across the court. On the other side Lothiriel saw a young woman waving in her direction. A smile broke out onto her face as she observed the brunette woman.

Aunriel was the daughter of her father's captain of the guard and her closest friend. Hurrying to the other side, she hugged her friend. "I did not know you were coming so early!" She proclaimed, thrilled to see her for the first time in weeks.

"My father surprised me by taking me with him. He hinted that you might be lonely for the company of other women instead of your ruffian brothers." Lothiriel laughed and threw her arms around Aunriel's neck once more.

"Well I am glad you are here. Court is a miserable affair without you." Together they came to the fence to watch Faramir and Erchirion. Aunriel was a full three inches taller than Lothiriel and had pale blue eyes that always bore a smile and welcome. As always here hands were covered in delicate gloves, protecting her dexterous fingers. The only child of the captain was a very gifted musician and saved the use of her hands for the harp. "You must sit with me after dinner and tell me everything about home. All I can glean from Amroth's letters is that he is busy with sending provisions here for the coronation ceremony and is miserably bored."

Aunriel smiled warmly just as Chirion thrust the first blow, which Faramir easily parried. "He is quite put out that he must do Elphir's duties at home."

"Ah," said Lothiriel an amused grin toying at her lips. "Surely he understands why? Until father is able to be out of bed he is taking meetings with the Western leaders. Chirion has no mind of leading."

"Amrothos is certainly the better option. Erchirion would rather dive for clams instead of writing out the orders for them." Aunriel said with a playful grin. Lifting her eyes skyward Lothiriel nodded.

"Eru bless him, all of them." Quietly she reveled in how lucky she was her beloved brothers came through alive. "Will you be at dinner this evening?" She asked, speaking of the court gathering.

With a long suffering sigh Aunriel nodded. "Your father has already asked me to play. I believe it to be a large party." Quietly Lothiriel nodded and turned her eyes back to the fight.

* * * * *

Royal duty be damned Eomer thought as he walked into the stables. After the morning he'd had there was no way he could concentrate on anything much less a letter to his Stewards back in Edoras. Grumbling under his breath about the sheer madness of the situation he took a sharp right down to the royal stalls. If a hard gallop with Firefoot couldn't fix his ills then he was sure nothing would.

There in the last and largest stall stood his horse. With just a single touch to his neck, Firefoot sensed his master's discontent and flattened his ears, throwing his head back. Rolling his eyes Eomer gave him a few reassuring pats, then digging into the pocket of his leather jerkin producing a large carrot. The stallion plucked it from his flat palm and munched happily as Eomer reached for the saddle pad. Firefoot nudged his shoulder before dropping his head to search out his master's pockets. It was not until after Eomer had properly saddled him did he give up the other carrot. "Only interested in three things," he muttered to his horse, letting him finish the carrot before sliding the bit into Firefoot's mouth. "Food, mares and a hard gallop."

Taking the leather strap of the bridle, Eomer led his faithful mount out into the main channel of the stables before swinging into the saddle. Perhaps he would ride down to camp and fetch Eothain. He needed counsel and his long time friend was quite adept at handling his worst moods. Urging Firefoot into a controlled trot he made his way from the sixth level towards the gates.

As he navigated the streets of Minas Tirith his thoughts strayed to the morning meeting he had taken with Faramir, captain of Gondor. For some weeks he'd been aware of the dark haired man's attachment to his sister. What he had been completely blind to was Eowyn's change of heart. When they had last seriously spoken all his sister wanted was the opportunity to fulfill a death wish and ride to battle, seeking further revenges for the death of their uncle.

For a brief moment Eomer's thoughts strayed to the man who was his second father. His grief for Theoden and Theodred ran deeper than he cared to admit, and he greatly missed their companionship. They would be able to provide counsel for this situation, even manage the delicate politics that would undoubtedly surround it.

Sighing he led Firefoot out of the gate and onto the field of Pelennor. Row after row of white tents were set, housing the heads of the Rohirrim. Luckily the tents were set far away enough that Firefoot could manage to work off a bit of energy. He kicked his horse to a gallop just as his scowl deepened.

Of course he gave his permission, how could he not? Eowyn would have held him with a blade until he gave approval. So now his sister was marrying a man she'd not known for three months. Groaning, Eomer remembered that Faramir had told him they were to marry as soon as possible, preferably before June, sometime after the coronation. Fast engagements were common, especially in these times. However that did not mean Eomer understood it.

It wasn't until he heard the loud call of his name did he realize two riders were waiting for him at the edge of the encampment. Eothain and Elfhelm were waving him to come to them. With an easy turn of his wrist, he directed Firefoot toward the pair. Both men were grinning widely at their king.

"Please do not tell me you've already heard."

"It was impossible not to, what with Eowyn seeking out my wife this morning." Elfhelm said with a wide grin threatening laughter. Now Eomer rolled his eyes at both his close friends, not even bothering to hide his distaste. "So you're to have a captain of Gondor as a brother-in-law."

Several curses sat on the tip of Eomer's tongue, a few managed to make their way from his lips, earning the hearty laugh of Eothain. "I've been trying not to think of it," he muttered, swatting away his friend's hand.

"Don't be too cross, it is a good match." Elfhelm said resuming a more serious face.

"All well and good until she leaves the Mark and I never see her." Eomer finally said revealing the true reason behind his unhappiness.

Leaning close, Eothain pretended to whisper into Elfhelm's ear but clearly wanted to be heard. "Our new King is lonely. Perhaps he should be on the lookout for another pretty woman to occupy his time and overprotective nature."

Growling, Eomer's fingers itched to hit his friend upside the back of his head. "Perhaps it is time our new King look for a wife." Rolling his eyes, Eomer turned Firefoot in a neat half circle, looking out over the open field.

"Shut it you two and let's take a long ride. Firefoot is anxious for a good run." As he shut his eyes trying to banish his thoughts he saw a pair of bright green eyes. Opening them, quite startled, he again saw nothing but the plains. "Take a wife indeed," he muttered darkly and kicked Firefoot into a gallop, determined to rid him of this perpetual bad mood.

The fact that Eothain and Elfhelm were laughing behind him did not help.

**Poor Eomer losing his sister! From what I can tell on the timeline Eowyn and Faramir marry quite quickly after their meeting. And their wedding business will start the chain of events for the story. Next chapter includes our two characters meeting again! **

**Reviews are love-Brose**


	3. Pony It's OK

**A/N: hello again! Sorry this update took so long, I've been having issues deciding how I was going to approach this story but I think I've got a general idea now. Things have been crazy busy for me lately what with holidays and the never-ending winter the Midwest is getting hit with! **

**Anyway this chapter features lots of interactions and it might be a little confusing right now but just stay with it because things will fall into place eventually. I really wanted to avoid the common scenarios: our couple falls in love instantly, or they hate each other initially, or they are forced together through an arranged marriage.**

**The song "Pony (it's ok)" is by Erin McCarley, I was listening to it while I wrote the last scene of the chapter. It the chorus reminds me a lot of the spirit I'm trying to evoke in Lothiriel. **

**Disclaimer: you know what is and isn't mine**

Chapter 2: Pony (it's ok)

There was a trail that led from the fifth level of the city that wound up the mountainside. Initially too narrow and steep to run a horse, the track eventually led to a wide field that was used for picnics. Although the Pelennor was already beginning to grow grass over the battlefield, Eomer had been riding there everyday. The field however had a wide track that was perfect to gallop Firefoot and had several natural dips and ridges in the terrain perfect for jumping.

A sharp elbow to his ribcage pulled Eomer from the field to the King's Hall. Blinking stupidly for a moment he gathered his bearings and realized the elbow came from Eowyn. He fought the impulse to snort that was no great surprise. "Would you please try to stay at least alert?" She asked resting her hand on his upper arm.

Looking down into Eowyn's bright blue eyes he felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. "I'm sorry Eowyn, you know I hate these functions," he said the last part under his breath and earned another sharp jab.

"Some king of the Mark you are," she replied and then chuckled. "No wonder everyone is afraid to speak to you. It's not because you're so intimidating but rather you look unsound with that faraway expression." What could have been a smile on Eomer's face slipped into a scowl and he pinched the skin on her hand causing her to withdraw her weapon. "Faramir will be here soon and I don't want you acting like a complete orc when you meet him."

Eomer's scowl deepened. Whether it was being compared to an orc or the presence of the man who was stealing his sister he wasn't sure, but he felt the sudden urge to storm through the doors and out into the warm evening. Anything to get away from the stuffy hall and all the stuffy women. Gondor's ladies had plenty to offer when it came to exotic looks and bright colored silks. At first all the tapered waists and generous necklines had been entertaining but Eomer was quick to recognize that those dresses were just like the heavy face paints the women wore. A vain cover-up of a lack of overall strength in personality and body.

"I am always nice," he said between gritted teeth and Eowyn only sighed and shook her golden head. Grumbling he wished that he had Eothain's good fortune to miss the dinner or Elfhelm's easy manners so he might converse with anyone in the room. Eomer lacked both fortune and ease however and he was forced to suffer through all due to his Kingly status. "I will continue to be nice," he added for good measure.

This statement didn't even remotely mollify Eowyn and she sighed. "Your idea of nice and mine are two different things entirely I'm sure," she said and stood on her tiptoes to search for the brown head of her betrothed.

"Two different things because we are two very different creatures. Honestly Eowyn he'll seek you out when he arrives, I sincerely doubt that Faramir will speak to everyone else before you," said Eomer as he fidgeted with the cuffs on his jacket. More than anything related to formal dinners Eomer hated wearing all the fancy clothes. Tonight was a gold colored shirt with a green high collared jacket. Heavy embroidery revealed Rohirric knots and he scowled at the polished onyx buttons. What he wouldn't give for a sturdy pair of brown boots and a suede jerkin.

"There he is!" She proclaimed excitedly.

Sure enough Faramir, steward of Gondor was cutting through the crowd with a shining grin. Dressed in handsome green and grey he fit the picture of a man of importance. At least Eowyn was marrying a man of true substance; Eomer had never once doubted Faramir's good character or his intentions. However he wished the man could have at least been a little taller.

Then his eyes flitted to the woman on his arm. Before the frown of disapproval could take his mouth it gave way to shock. Princess Lothiriel was smiling serenely at something her cousin had just said to her. Eomer's mouth went dry; she looked exactly as she had the morning they met and yet nothing alike at the same time. She wore emerald green to compliment both her dinner partner and her sparkling eyes and the dress couldn't have been more becoming if she tried.

"That must be his cousin Princess Lothiriel. Her father speaks very highly of her," said Eowyn fast in his ear and he could practically hear the excitement rolling off her in waves. Imrahil had certainly praised all of his children highly and Eomer was aware that his sister had been itching to meet the young princess. "She's beautiful," she said.

Silently Eomer agreed. As they drew closer he took in the details of her face and he felt his mouth quirk slightly. Lothiriel did not wear the heavy layer of face paint the other ladies wore, although her eyes were lined in a light ring of kohl and her lips were a shining pink. Beautiful she was, but he preferred her face clean of any 'enhancements.'

At last Faramir and Lothiriel stood before them and as he bowed she sank into a curtsey. Years of court life allowed her an easy grace and her neck bent easily forward, long and shapely. Swallowing, Eomer diverted his attention to the swans that were embroidered in delicate gold thread at the bodice of her dress. Next to him Eowyn was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Lothiriel please meet Eowyn, the White lady of Rohan." Faramir said and gestured to Eowyn. Lothiriel was about to give another polite curtsey when Eowyn stepped forward and threw her arms around the girl. Eomer stiffened and frowned as he noticed the princess freeze. Then she rebounded quickly and hugged back. When they pulled away Eowyn kept a grip on her upper arms. "Eowyn, this is my cousin Princess Lothiriel," said Faramir through his laughter.

"I have heard so much about you from Faramir and your father. It seems as if I know you already." Eowyn explained pulling away, and took her hands. At first Eomer feared the worst. His sister had an ungainly habit of being too overbearing too fast and yet, a smile broke across Lothiriel's face. Against his will, Eomer's heart broke into a sprint.

Still he kept his eyes on her as she squeezed Eowyn's hands. "The way the pair of them gab like court women I have no doubt of it," she said and earned a neat elbow in her side from Faramir.

"I wonder where we might have picked up that habit." Faramir teased and then focused his gaze back to his betrothed and Eomer.

Eowyn stepped to the side and Lothiriel lifted her eyes to take him in. His heartbeat fast still as he noticed her eyes scrutinize his form, they were curious and very kind. Eomer noticed with a jolt of satisfaction that she had a generous sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Good, that meant she spend time outdoors. "It's a pleasure to see you again Lord Eomer," she said graciously and he did the only thing he knew to do. Carefully he bowed.

Eowyn laughed and linked her arm through Faramir's. "My wicked brother failed to mention you'd already been introduced!"

"I'm sorry Eowyn," he said and then shifted his weight. Lothiriel had to lift her head higher to take him in, and he had never felt so awkward in his entire life. Bema! For such a small woman she certainly had a great power with her eyes. "I had the pleasure of meeting Princess Lothiriel Tuesday morning of last week. We had a brief conversation in the courtyard."

"It appears we were both early risers that morning," said Lothiriel in agreement. For a split second her eyes found his, and they held each other. The bright green was almost endless and he felt as if he might discern a thousand emotions and never guess her thoughts. As much as he wanted to he couldn't bring himself to say anything else for his tongue was nailed to the roof of his mouth.

Had they not conversed so easily in the courtyard? What happened to his confident and kingly demeanor? Was Eomer truly to be tongue tied and surprised by this woman? When he looked back to her he was surprised to see she was still looking at him. Her eyes were unfathomable.

Faramir's eyes flitted between the two, a look of surprise etched across his features. "Perhaps since you are already acquainted my brother may escort you to the table." Eowyn said and her three companions turned on her with shock.

"Eowyn that is considered quite forward." Faramir whispered, leaning close to his fiancé. It was his turn to receive a sharp elbow to the ribs and immediately he straightened up.

"If Princess Lothiriel would consent," said Eomer and cursed himself. Why couldn't he have said something more personal? Suddenly he felt fifteen years old all over again, trying to woo the stable maid at Meduseld, all awkward glances and stumbling words.

Lothiriel's face was unreadable until she dipped her head and bit her lip. "You honor me," she said and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Standing so close next to him Eomer realized just how small she was in comparison to his towering height. Even by Rohirric standards he was considered quite tall. She barely came above his shoulder, and when he looked down all he saw was the crown of her shining dark hair. Walking behind Faramir and Eowyn, Eomer wondered how he was ever going to say something to this strange woman who had rendered him so speechless.

* * * * *

Lothiriel had never been so relieved to see the end of dinner in her life. As soon as was acceptable she stole away from the company of her friends and family and made for Aunriel who was plucking delicate harp strings. "The King of Rohan? Your family certainly is pushing you in a very distinguished direction," said the girl as Lothiriel collapsed in an empty chair next to her friend.

Casting Aunriel a sideways glare, Lothiriel took a deep breath and then slumped lower. "For a man who had such an easy time speaking to me the first time we met he is now as silent as the stone walls surrounding us," she replied. Absently she pushed her shining waves over a slender shoulder and let her gaze sweep over the mingling dinner guests. Bottles of aged liquor had been brought out and already the wide bottomed glasses were being passed around for desert.

"Tall, silent and incredibly handsome, honestly Loti I can't imagine why you aren't quite pleased." Lothiriel gave a short laugh and then shook her head.

"You try and coax more than three sentences out of him for an entire dinner and then tell me that his good looks and height make up for the deficit." Aunriel plucked an incorrect note and coughed quickly to cover it up. The brunette kept her blue eyes trained on her instrument but her lips quirked into a smile.

"There are worse things in this world you know. Imagine if he spoke incessantly, or of nothing but himself," she said.

Lothiriel fiddled with the long strand of ivory pearls she wore. Looping the knotted necklace around her fingers and twisting it back out she mulled over Aunriel's words. "I have enough people in my life that talk about themselves all the time, but I should not mind if he spoke a little more. Although it doesn't matter much, I do not believe my family is aiming for a match."

Aunriel's pale fingers flew over a particularly difficult section of her piece. "Then why did he walk you to dinner?"

Shrugging, Lothiriel continued to toy with her necklace. "Because the Lady Eowyn wished to walk with Faramir," she said and out of the corner of her eye caught sight of the couple moving through the room. A frown barely touched her lips; the King of Rohan was nowhere to be seen. How had he managed to sneak out of the event entirely without being caught?

"Elphir is coming this way, you'd best go," said Aunriel and Lothiriel looked towards her left. Sure enough her eldest brother was nearing her with a slightly stern expression on his face.

Groaning Lothiriel squeezed her friend's shoulder. "He hates it when I sit here the whole time during dinners. Come tomorrow evening before we all sit to eat. We shall walk the courtyards and you can tell me everything you know." Giving her a wink, Aunriel bade her goodbye and Lothiriel rose smoothly to her feet.

Ducking behind the cover of a small gaggle of women, Lothiriel edged towards the arched doorway leading to a wide balcony overlooking the city. Just as she was about to move into the shadow she bumped into a solid figure. "Bema!" The curse slipped out in a familiar accent.

Stumbling away, Lothiriel's back hit the rail just as Eomer reached out to steady her shoulders. "Eru bless I am sorry my Lord," she said and turned to leave when he held out a hand of apology.

"No, stay please," he said. "If anyone catches one of us out here it now looks as though we'd slipped away for conversation instead of the real reason," he said and his voice trailed off uncomfortably. Lothiriel crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow, that was the most he had said to her all night.

"Whom are you hiding from?" She asked softly.

Dropping his hands, Eomer fought the impulse to stick them in the pockets of his breeches and rock back on the balls of his feet. "To tell the truth, the entire affair. I hate these dinners." Lothiriel couldn't help the smile that eased onto her face. In the half moon of the darkening night his hair reflected silver, brushing gently over his broad shoulders. "May I ask who you're hiding from?"

The smile widened, they were going to play that game again? "My eldest brother Elphir. He has caught me sitting with the harpist instead of speaking with the other guests. I can only venture to guess he is not pleased," she said and leaned around the stone archway to peek inside. Normally large dinners and functions did not bother Lothiriel, however this evening felt different as if Eomer had projected some of his discomfort on her.

The man in question shifted his weight next to her and then clasped his hands firmly behind his back. "Nor will Eowyn be pleased when she discovers I have acted so cowardly," he said in response.

"Yes the brave King who stood up to the Black Shadows in war, hiding from the court gossips does seem a touch strange. May I ask you something my Lord?" The curiosity was almost devouring her it was so strong.

Eomer inclined his head towards her politely. "Of course you may."

"You speak freely now as you did when we first met, yet not twenty minutes ago I could not have forced a word from you even if I threatened you with my dinner fork," she said and watched curiously as his face seemed to twitch in amusement. The humor reached his eyes and yet did not find his mouth. Eru, did the man ever smile? Certainly he seemed incapable of laughing.

Bringing his large hands back in front of him he clasped them together and let go, allowing his arms to swing before bringing his hands back. Even now he seemed hesitant to answer, as if the truth was not something he wished to share. "I have difficulty at formal Gondorian dinners," he admitted. "Formality is not a strength I possess," he said and his vague nature was not something she could easily miss.

Yet it explained a lot, particularly why he acted earlier as if he had a long spear thrust down the back of his fine clothing. "Is there anything that places you at ease my Lord? About these events I mean," she amended quickly.

Eomer smoothed a hand over his hair and then scowled. "The end of them my Lady," he said and she could see his face color slightly, even in the pale light. Try as she might Lothiriel could not contain her laughter, even though she covered her mouth with a hand. Again as she looked into his face the humor was in his eyes but there was something holding him back, preventing him from truly enjoying the moment.

With a wicked grin she leaned around the doorway again. Elphir was striding through the crowd, moving towards Erchirion who had now taken up Lothiriel's former spot with Aunriel. Turning to look over her shoulder she found Eomer watching her with a straight face. "May I ask why you find formal events so," she paused to find the right word.

"I spent most of my life on the back of a horse and sleeping in fields," he said and then looked into the ballroom. Slow string music was plucking out uncomfortable tunes and Lothiriel watched as colorful couples stood to dance. "All of this finery is far beyond what is seen even in the Golden Hall," he said and she arched a brow.

"The Golden Hall?"

"Forgive me, I mean Meduseld," he said and then inclined his head a moment. "The hall of the King," he explained.

She pressed her back against the stone archway and folded her hands over her stomach. "Do they not have great Balls and formal dinners at Meduseld?" She asked and he gave her a slight, comfortable shrug of his shoulders.

"Formal in Rohan is quite different from formal in Gondor, everyone mingles together through meals, walking along the aisles and trading seats freely with one another. The dancing is, much livelier so that couples are forced onto the terrace for air." Lothiriel closed her eyes for a moment to picture the scene.

"Why do they call it the Golden Hall?" She asked.

With a gentle point of his fingers upward he lifted his eyes to the heavens. "It's the roof, the color of the thatching lends the belief that it is made of gold. In fact Meduseld can be seen from quite a distance when approaching Edoras," he said and the interest was beginning to brew in his eyes.

Lothiriel was struck with how easily he got on when talking about his home. A warm note was hinted in his voice and he began to relax. His shoulders were broader than she'd ever seen on any man before, standing in such close proximity she felt dwarfed against his stature, for Eomer was also the tallest. Yet there was something so striking and handsome about the way he stood, and his attitude another mystery. Just when she was to speak a new figure appeared in the doorway.

"There you are Lothiriel, King Eomer," Elphir gave a short bow and then offered his arm to his sister. "Come dance," he said and bore her away from the inquisitive eyes of the King.

* * * * *

Lothiriel slumped against her vanity chair as her maid fussed with her impossible hair. The middle-aged woman clicked her tongue over the shining locks, attempting to produce a serviceable braid. Fair light spilled through the open bay windows of her room, the warm morning breeze carrying the smells and sounds of the waking city. "All this beautiful hair and it won't stay put," said the maid even as she coiled the thick braid about the crown of her head.

"As it's always been Gultha," said Lothiriel and she took the time to examine her features as the last pins went in to the updo. Already a tan was beginning to set into her skin and the freckles that had been lost during winter were starting to show. Dusted across the bridge of her nose and forehead, the brown flecks were considered unattractive by Gondorian standards. A frown touched her lips; the women of the court had always taken her disregard for pale porcelain beauty as a sign of defiance to accepted decorum. The truth was that Lothiriel preferred to be outdoors during the fine weather.

Finally Gultha was finished with her hair and Lothiriel stood to examine herself in the full-length mirror. Faramir had assured her that she would not be out of place in fitted hose and an embroidered jerkin. The terrain of Pelennor was too uneven for sidesaddle and her companions were among the best riders in middle earth.

"Iriel are you coming or not?" A grouchy voice could be heard from downstairs. Rolling her eyes she finished the buttons on the long blue jerkin she wore over a white shirt and black hose. Tucking her hose into polished black boots she took one last look over her shoulder and attempted a smile. Her teeth were white against her skin.

"Surely it will be good enough for the entire party, Kings included," she said as she turned to the side to examine the slender line of her figure.

A morning ride had not been her idea, though Lothiriel had been happy to accept Faramir's pleading. Lothiriel was well aware that she was the key to the part disembarking. Although her brother was to be in attendance, it would have been considered most odd for Lady Eowyn to accompany the men if another woman was not present. It was only at Faramir and Eowyn's beckoning did Lothiriel go.

Trotting easily down the stairs she found Chirion eating an apple, a rather sour expression on his face. Arching a brow, Lothiriel came around him and reached across the scrubbed table to the jug of water that waited her. Pouring a goblet she drained it before searching out a pear. "You look positively radiant this morning Chirion," she teased with a playful grin.

Grumbling a few curses under his breath Chirion merely ran his fingers through his dark waves. "This morning will be wasted already, do not add your trivial remarks and make it worse."

Erchirion set aside the apple core and then placed his head in his hands. Comprehension dawned over Lothiriel as she heard several more curses slip out of his mouth. "Perhaps brother dear you should have forgone the taverns with your friends last night. Especially since you were aware this picnic was to happen today." Even as she spoke she rustled up a hand towel from the washroom and dipped it in the cool water.

Lothiriel pressed it against the back of her brother's neck and he groaned in appreciation. Not too much later he lifted his eyes and took in her apparel. "You look nice, yet I wonder how much gossip you will incur. A princess of Gondor venturing out in hose and a jerkin of all things."

Rolling her emerald eyes Lothiriel examined the jerkin; the blue material was quite fine with silver swan ships embroidered at the high neck and waves about the buttonholes. "I think it's fine," she muttered fingering the mother of pearl buttons.

A knock on the door signaled Faramir just as he opened it and strode through. Elphir was right behind him, carrying a thick bundle of letters. "Morning Elphir," said Lothiriel just as he kissed her cheek briefly and pressed a few envelopes into her hands.

"Amrothos has gotten around to sending post finally. He reckons it will be the last he sends before coming to us for the coronation. Hopefully he hasn't been causing trouble," said her serious brother.

A wicked grin toyed on her lips as she accepted a kiss on her forehead from Faramir. "I have no idea why Amroth would talk to me about causing trouble," her voice trailed off.

"No idea indeed." Elphir muttered just loud enough for all of them to hear. Her light laughter filled the room as Chirion struggled to his feet and stumbled out to the courtyard. "Father wanted me to remind you to see him before dinner tonight, he says he has something he wants to speak to you about."

Nodding, she pushed a few fly away pieces of hair from her eyes. "I will, take care and don't work too hard this afternoon Elphir." With that she followed her cousin out and noted that it was just the three of them. "And where is the rest of your stately party?" She asked him.

"Lady Eowyn and her company are meeting us at the gates near the Rohan encampment. Many of the men keep their horses there," he explained and ran his fingers through his fine brown hair. An elated grin was on his face and Lothiriel scarcely doubted as to why. Since he had confided his engagement to her, Faramir had gone on to profess every perfect detail of Eowyn to Lothiriel.

After meeting her last night, she could hardly call his proclamations vain. Eowyn was as stunning a creature as Lothiriel had ever met. Her face was bright and clean of all the powders and paints many women used and her hair was spun of sunlight. The White Lady of Rohan had easily glanced over the protocol for formal meetings and had embraced Lothiriel exclaiming that they were bound to be great friends. True enough when Eowyn was not dancing the women were found in deep discussion over goblets of wine.

"I look forward to seeing your lovely betrothed again so soon!" Lothiriel said cheerfully, focusing her mind on the positive aspects of the picnic to come.

Faramir grinned widely and happily looped her arm through his. "I believe you will also meet Lord Eothain and his betrothed Bethwyn. Of course King Eomer will be with us as well. He specifically requested to attend."

The smile faltered on her face and Faramir was quick to notice. "He requested to attend? Is he not in meetings all day?" She asked curiously. Lothiriel did not have anything against King Eomer, rather the opposite. She found herself drawn to figure out the very unusual man.

"It's a Sunday Loti, even Elphir has no meeting to attend today," He said and squeezed her hand. "I thought you and Eomer were getting on quite well, Elphir said he found the two of you speaking on the terrace only last night." To her credit, Lothiriel blushed. Now that she looked back, it seemed rather foolish to be standing on a dark balcony alone with the King of Rohan.

Any idea she had formed of Eomer King after their first meeting had been quickly confused with his strange turns of behavior. His unease in his new life position was painfully apparent in public, and yet as soon as they were out of the formal setting he relaxed and spoke so freely. Where Eowyn was quick to disregard all the court protocol, Eomer seemed terrified of tripping through it. "I admit I find him curious," she said carefully choosing her words. "They say King Eomer is so imposing and he is in a formal hall, and yet the two times I have spoken with him away from Gondor's prying eyes he seemed an entirely different person."

Faramir was silent for a long moment as they walked on. Sounds of Erchirion's complaints were echoing behind them. "King Eomer comes from a background even different from that of a traditional King of Rohan. He had lived his entire life believing he would always remain a Marshall in the Rohirrim." Lothiriel bit her lip as she connected Faramir's words with Eomer's from the night before. Briefly she pictured his face, so rigid and handsome. Privately she lamented that he never seemed to smile, but perhaps he had not much to smile about these last years.

"How strange that he and Eowyn are so close in age and yet are so very different from each other. There is no hesitation or conflict in her character," she observed and Faramir chuckled. Since last night she'd been marveling that the man she met last night was the same from the court yard that fine morning. Then he had spoken so freely and although he did not smile then, Eomer King was at least relaxed.

"What you see with Eowyn is the whole truth I agree. Yet that is part of why I love her, for I grow tired of unraveling mysteries and working too hard to please," said Faramir and Lothiriel frowned. She disliked the darkened tone of his voice as if he were recalling ghosts from his own recent past. Silently she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, just a small reminder that not everyone in his family was gone from him. "Eomer is and has always been more at home on the back of a horse with a spear in his left hand and a naked sword in his right." Faramir explained when a sudden retching sound distracted his speech. Stopping they turned to find Erchirion doubled over an unfortunate barrel, heaving the remains of last night.

Hurrying to her brother, Lothiriel ran a sympathetic hand up his back. "I don't think I can go," he managed to moan through his agony.

"Yes it's best you go back home and sleep the worst of it off." Faramir encouraged with a wry grin. With no further word Erchirion pulled his head from the barrel and began to stumble back towards the family house.

Lothiriel scowled, she had been counting on Chirion as her buffer if King Eomer was less inclined to converse. Now she was left with two happily engaged couples and the one man in all of Minas Tirith she could not count on to be consistent in his behavior and regard. Still she and Faramir descended to the stables where their horses stood ready to ride.

The sight of Arondel soothed Lothiriel's confused mood. Gently the chestnut gelding nudged her shoulder and she smiled, reaching up to scratch his ears. Arondel whickered softly and she went around to double check the saddle before reaching for the bridle resting over the pommel. "Good morning friend," she said softly and carefully eased the bit into his mouth, fixing the bridle before letting Faramir help her mount.

"Shall we cousin dear?" He asked with a lopsided grin.

Gesturing with a sweep of her arm Lothiriel nodded. "Yes we shall."

**Next chapter will bring us Amrothos and the preparations for the coronation as well as some business discussions that set up eventual plot points in the story. I'm pretty excited to bring Amroth in! **

**Thanks for the wonderful reviews; I try to PM to each review. Also thanks for the alerts and favorites; you guys are all so fantastic. I always like to hear from readers, regardless of whether you have praise or criticism! Reviews are love-Brose**


	4. Of Reunions and Thrown Gloves

**A/N: I'm back! I apologize profusely for the extended delay in this installment. Although I make no serious promises I don't think it will happen again. My life, to put it mildly, has been ridiculous busy and absolutely crazy since the new year began…six months ago…**

**Anyway, this chapter starts to build on pushing the plot forward so ensure that our two lovers spend more time together in the coming future. Amrothos makes his appearance; I hope you enjoy my portrayal of him, as he is a personal favorite of mine. Also get used to him, he's going to be around a lot! Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favorited. You certainly know how to make an author feel loved!**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nothing except the computer and word processor, which facilitated this writing. **

Chapter 3: Of Reunions and Thrown Gloves

Eomer stretched his long legs out and leaned further back into the chair he was occupying. The private room had two tall windows with the curtains drawn back, spilling warm sunlight across the floor. Prince Imrahil was sitting upright in bed; fidgeting with the collar of the dark blue shirt he wore. Fighting the urge to smirk, Eomer could tell that his friend was itching to get out and walk around.

"I cannot tell you the relief I have that this is my final morning of bed rest," said Imrahil, turning his impatient glance to the doorway. "In the meantime I bid you tell me more about yesterday's meeting, Elphir had time enough to spare a brief summary," he said and leaned back against the high pillows propped against the padded headboard.

Surveying the Prince's relaxed stature, Eomer knew it was all right speak freely. "Aragorn wishes to send invitations of peace to the leaders of men who fought alongside the dark lord. If responses hedge towards favorable emissaries from Harad will assuredly be asked to come as far as Belfalas. We are unsure about the response from Umbar," at these words Imrahil's' face darkened.

"King Elessar may ask them to Minas Tirith for peace talks but until there is an ironclad treaty no Corsair will set foot in the palace at Dol Amroth." Eomer sat up, bending one knee and bringing an elbow to rest upon it. He was most curious at the sudden ugly expression on his friend's face.

"May I ask why?" He inquired, choosing to forgo any formality in hedging around to the question.

"They have spent much of their time practicing for war by raiding our coasts. I have seen many homes burn, goods stolen and lives taken and ruined at the hands of those monsters. Their code of conduct includes no honor and I would not bring my daughter close to them at any cost." Eomer did not know why but he felt his chest swell in righteous anger. What little he knew of the Corsairs of Umbar he would not have the intriguing and beautiful princess within sight of a single ship. The compulsion to protect the girl was odd really, but present regardless.

Sighing Imrahil fell back into his pillows and swept a hand over his eyes. "I must get from this bed and speak to Elessar. Elphir is a good leader but lacks the delicacy to navigate this discussion. Peace talks will require more than friendly notes and offers of aide." Eomer's mind drug itself back to the conversation. "What other news?" He asked and brought a shadow of his former smile back to his face.

Trying to will his body to relax again, Eomer slumped deeper into his chair and frowned as he realized he would be rumpling the velvet jerkin Eowyn had selected for him to wear. It seemed that even though she was as adept at battle as any man that could not cure her of her womanly tendencies. She still delighted in forcing him to wear fussy embroidered clothing and took great pleasure in reminding him that he was a King now, he had duties and images to fulfill. "The coronation preparations have finished, you should be pleased to know that our families will be seated together as my sister's engagement to your nephew has tied us together."

Imrahil did smile now. "They are a good match," he said happily. "Do you entertain the idea of marriage Eomer?" He asked.

The man's question startled Eomer. He figured that eventually he would marry, but it was not a subject he thought of often. "I suppose I do," he said at length and wished he had something he might do with his suddenly nervous hands.

"You'll be asked to produce an heir soon you know," said Imrahil. These words alone were not new to Eomer, he knew that he needed a son and within the next few years. Naming an heir to the throne of Rohan was an important task and now with Eowyn marrying the Steward of Gondor, her children would pass into a new line of Gondorian inheritance. "Besides I think marriage would be good for you."

Imrahil's delicate comment piqued his interest more than he cared to admit. Just as Eomer was about to open his mouth and ask why a voice from the door stole the words and breath straight from his mouth. "Alright if you're going to be a stubborn orc about going to greet Amrothos we'd best get you up and to the stables. Eru knows you're not going to let anyone help you do anything." He looked up to see Lothiriel striding into the room with a stack of freshly folded clothing. All of her shining dark hair was braided from her face and coiled elegantly about the crown of her head. Shoots of fine silver and beads were woven into the braid, acting as a natural circlet.

He swallowed hard as she spotted him and came to a dead halt. Immediately he shot straight up in his chair as if someone had stuck a lance pole straight down the back of his shirt. A bright flush took her face and, still holding onto the clothes, dipped into a pretty curtsey. "Forgive me King Eomer I did not know you were here," she said and bit her lip.

A scowl touched his mouth and he wondered if that was a nervous habit she had, he much preferred her when she was smiling. "I just came to tell your father details from yesterdays council meetings," he said and clambered to his feet, bowing. Biting her lip further, Lothiriel curtsied again and then turned away from him toward her father.

Eomer dared only look at Imrahil who wore a very amused expression on his face. His iron-grey eyes flitted between them and then he sat up straighter. "Lothiriel is under the impression than I am bad patient."

Rolling her eyes, Lothiriel set the clothing at the foot of the bed and came around, leaning over to kiss her father on the forehead. Eomer tried to ignore the fact that although her deep blue dress bore a high collar, it fit her narrow body like a glove until the skirt, which just brushed over the flagstone floor. "Yes well you've only tried six escapes in the last two weeks, I wouldn't venture to call that model behavior," she teased lightly.

Just as Eomer managed to remove his gaze from her narrow waist, Imrahil examined her

attire. "Surely you aren't going to ride side saddle."

Now a true frown came to Eomer's mouth. Hadn't he just seen her ride astride a horse naught three days ago? Lothiriel was as good a horsewoman as he'd seen, she was nothing to compare to his sister's skill, but with some practice she could be truly exceptional. That is if she chose to sit on a horse the proper way. Her face flushed wish irritation as she stood back up and went around to the clothing she'd brought.

"King Elessar, Elphir, King Eomer and you are all going to be in attendance to formally greet Amrothos and Endelen," she said and brushed off her skirt. "It would be extremely indelicate of me to show up in hose and a jerkin, this is no morning ride among friends," she explained and this seemed to momentarily mollify her father.

Eomer shuffled his weight between his feet for something to do. He felt incredibly awkward listening in on Imrahil's amused banter with his daughter. It also seemed Lothiriel was anxious to be out already, and was preparing her father's clothing with great haste. "I believe I will take my leave and see you with the rest of the riding party," he said and made to bow to Lothiriel when Imrahil cut him off.

"Nonsense, I need an ally against my daughter's mothering," he winked at Lothiriel who laid everything out and then unfolded the changing screen that stood in the corner of the room. Silently she lifted the carved cane in the doorway and brought it to her father. Imrahil did not bother to mask his face of distaste as she all but wrapped his fingers around it. Eomer watched as she stepped away, nearer to him and waited as her father got from bed and then took his own things behind the screen to change.

"I trust you're well King Eomer?" She asked turning her eyes back to him with a kind smile. Another sweep of her skirts sent an assault of warm lavender and the warmth of spring rushing over him. The effect was momentarily dizzying but he managed to find the words.

"I am very well I thank you," he said and then fidgeted with his hand so he wouldn't nervously stroke his beard. Bema! What was it about this woman that caused his mind to cloud over? "Are you pleased that your brother Amrothos comes today?"

The expression of complete and pure happiness that took her face was one Eomer would never forget, even as an old man. Lothiriel's eyes seemed to turn the color of the bright green grass in the summer sun and her features softened into a very loving smile. "Yes I am, when I was on my way to Minas Tirith to care for father he was making for Dol Amroth. I have not seen him since before the battle on the Pelennor."

From the conversations he'd had with the younger prince as well as his brothers the siblings were uncommonly close. Eomer could not expect any different, Amrothos and Lothiriel were but a year apart in age. "I met Prince Amrothos during the march to Cormalen," said Eomer and recalled the buoyant nature of Imrahil's youngest son. The handsome boy seemed to know every one of Dol Amroth's soldiers and Eomer found himself introduced to a host of men. "I enjoyed his company."

Lothiriel shot him a smile and brushed off the skirt of her dress. Imrahil returned from behind the screen, leaning on his cane but looking fresh in the grey velvet jerkin and dark breeches tucked into polished black boots. "It's a long walk to the stables, perhaps you would escort your old father?"

X X X X X

The riding party arrived just as the great swan ship was docking. Erchirion's horse was still full of anxious energy as the part came to a halt. Frowning he took a tighter hand with the reins and walked the gelding in a tight circle. Using his free hand he brushed his dark hair from his eyes and turned his head away from the bright sun. Squinting he eased his horse forward to stand next to Lothiriel who was frowning from her perch on Arondel. Moments such as watching his sister arrange her skirts over her sidesaddle reminded him why he was ever thankful he was not a woman.

A wry smile too his face as Elphir trotted from the front of the party back toward his siblings. An anxious expression was written all over his face and Erchirion noted that he had been unable to stay still all morning. Then again it had been over a month since he'd seen his wife Endelen and his son Alphros. Even Erchirion was ready to see his sister-in-law and nephew, especially if it meant getting Elphir out of his way so he could stop squabbling over matters of state. Erchirion was being groomed as captain of the guard of Belfalas not a diplomat.

"Could the guard possibly take any longer?" Erchirion muttered darkly and turned his horse, Galdendor in another neat circle to work off nervous energy. Lothiriel cracked a smile and again tried to fidget with the layout of her skirt. Her eyes kept flickering forward to the host of kings at the front. Concern caught the corners of her eyes and Erchirion followed her curious gaze. Their father was leaning back slightly in his saddle to rest. Bless his little sister, she had spent countless hours at Imrahil's bedside helping nurse him to good health. Riding all the way down to the ship to greet Amrothos was a rather exhausting adventure for his first day out, Erchirion was sure she was worried about how much longer he could stay out.

His eyes naturally swept from his father to Elessar who sat upright next to him. The future King of Gondor was relaxed and speaking idly with Eomer of Rohan. Erchirion felt a slight frown take his features. What little he knew of the young king he liked immensely but that did not mean he was pleased to hear Elphir had discovered Eomer alone with his sister on a balcony the week before. In his humble opinion Lothiriel was far too young for marriage, much less to a man who would sweep her halfway across Middle Earth.

At long last the guard lowered the gangplank that connected the ship to solid ground. Three knights dressed in the customary blue came forward and down the plank, each bearing the swan and ship on their chests while carrying long spears. The sun caught the perfectly polished metal points and flashed across his eyes. Grumbling he held a hand up to shield his vision, just in time to see a tall man with unruly dark curls. He was leading a rather impressive horse, saddled and ready for the ride to the city.

"Finally!" Said Lothiriel and her face lit up just seeing her youngest brother. She rocked forward on her saddle slightly and Arondel took an easy few steps forward. Quickly she checked the reins and watched impatiently as Amrothos reached solid ground.

"Hail Prince Amrothos!" His father's voice rang clear in the warm morning and even

from the distance Erchirion could see the cocky grin on his brother's face. Rolling his eyes, Erchirion urged Galendor forward at the same time as Elphir.

A woman followed Amrothos from the ship, bearing a small child in her arms. All of her brown hair was flowing down her back and Elphir dismounted in a fluid motion. Ignoring all propriety was incredibly uncommon for Elphir but it seemed seeing Endelen after so long was enough to crack his harsh exterior. Erchirion shared a sideways glance with Lothiriel just as his brother embraced his wife. She rolled her eyes as he made a gagging motion. "Hush," she admonished but she was smiling.

As all of this had gone on Amrothos was greeting the dismounted kings of Middle Earth, shaking hands and bowing. At long last he cut through the formal line and Erchirion dismounted to the ground. "I see you're well brother," said Erchirion as they shook hands.

Amrothos grinned and pulled him into an uncomfortable hug. Bristling, Erchirion fought to get away, Amrothos knew how much he hated that kind of affection. "Yes it's remarkably good to see you too Erchirion. When may I tempt you to a duel? I've felt the need recently to thrash you in sword play."

Cuffing his brother up the back of his head Erchirion said nothing as Amrothos moved away to where Lothiriel still sat on her horse. Then with no warning she launched herself from the saddle and Amrothos caught her just in time. She was a flurry of skirts and the pins holding her braid in place popped loose, sending the tail flying over her shoulders. Amrothos wrapped his arms tightly around her and they turned in a fast circle, allowing him to further absorb the shock of her attack. Erchirion coughed to hide his laugh. Leave it to Lothiriel to attempt proper behavior with a sidesaddle only to completely ignore it later. "I missed you brother!" She cried as they parted.

"Wish I could say the same," said Amrothos in a teasing voice. Quickly she retaliated, giving his upper arm a light slap before letting him cajole her into another hug. "I miss you too Lothiriel, it is very difficult to put off productivity when you are not around to assist."

A sunny grin took her face and Erchirion lifted his gaze and received a prompt shock. The king of Rohan was staring as Lothiriel as if he'd never seen a woman in his entire life. His eyes followed not the lines of her body but held steady with her smile and her eyes as she and Amrothos greeted each other after two months of separation. The entire focus of his strong blue gaze was directed to her, and his mouth was slightly open as if in shock.

Slightly shifting his focus Erchirion caught a glance with his father who turned his eyes back to Eomer. A single eyebrow slid further up his face and a shadow of a grin tugged his lips. Imrahil gave his middle son a slight shrug of his shoulders indicating he had no idea what was going on. Grumbling, Erchirion tightened his hold on Galendor's bridle and slunk his shoulders slightly down, watching Amrothos help his joyous sister back into her saddle.

X X X X X

Amrothos relined deeper into the leather-covered chair. Absently he drummed his fingers along the heavy studs that bolted the fabric in place. With his long legs stretched in front of him, he crossed one ankle over the other. To anyone in the room he looked just as relaxed as he felt. It as nice to be off that ship and on solid ground once more. Also, it was a relief to pass the torch of stewardship back to Elphir who would return to Dol Amroth just as soon as the coronation was over.

This allowed him to go back to the activities he preferred giving his time to: practicing, riding, chasing skirts and talking Lothiriel into being as irresponsible as possible. A grin took his face as he swept his dark hair from his eyes, Lothiriel was closer to a best friend than a sibling, and she was without doubt his favorite sibling. "Tell me more about the defenses along the ocean walls." Elphir's voice addressed him.

Sitting up slightly, Amrothos reached down to the large container that held several maps. Pulling it open he spread the maps on the large square table that the group of men surrounded. Elphir pushed weights over the corners of the largest map, holding it in place. "Corsairs have raided the smaller villages bordering along the edges of the coast. Very few people were harmed, they were mostly trying to pillage as much food as the could while they fled to their waiting fleets. Still," he said and hefted a sigh. "They've managed to completely destroy the outer most defensive wall, leaving the southern most outpost exposed."

Across from him, Amrothos watched Erchirion's stoic mouth turn into a deeply lined frown. His fingers closed and tightened on the hilt of his sword and Amroth felt a pang of sympathy for his brother. Erchirion had served on those defenses for years, many of his friends still served there. It was yet another blow, adding to the considerable list of lives lost and destruction of their home, all in the wake of the defeat of Sauron. Still, despite the overwhelming relief of victory they were surrounded by so much loss and chaos.

"Amroth had you a chance to see the extent of the damage?" His father's voice drifted from where Imrahil leaned over the table from his post in a higher set chair. To his right Eomer was flicking his eyes over the marked defensive posts and rubbing his hand over his beard.

Sighing, he raked his fingers through his dark curls and shook his head. His long finger shifted from its point on the southern defenses to the small marking of the palace itself. "No," he admitted and tapped the palace. "I've been busy with assisting in the housing and relocating of refugees, with our own palace walls having taken considerable damage it's been a challenge to safely house everyone, even within the confines of the hunting grounds and court," he said and lifted a weight. Reaching underneath he grabbed the ledger he'd drafted, already knowing what the next questions would be.

"How much damage has the palace sustained?" Elphir's voice was now in command of the room. Amroth looked at his brother standing to his left, finding a mirror of his stormy grey eyes staring right back at him.

Unrolling the ledger he produced a detailed map of the palace. "I had one of the Guard Captains plot the palace walls on a grid and mark the sections where the worst of the damage has been done. Most of it has occurred during the fleeing of the Corsairs and Harad from Mordor. There are holes in the defense lines here," he said pointing to one of the two walls that faced the ocean. "And here," the other was near the line where the palace wall blended into the surrounding forest that eventually gave way to the palms that swayed along the shoreline.

Both places of damage rest on the outer wall, which created a ring that, encapsulated the palace as well as extensive grounds that housed the gardens and the practice and riding fields. "How many refugees are we housing?" Imrahil asked.

"When I last wrote the number was roughly amassing two thousand. They are trickling in by the hundreds every day, the best I can reckon is three thousand, most likely more," he said and watched the concern rise in his father's eyes.

Amrothos sighed, this meeting to catch his family up on the details of their home was not going even remotely as well as he wanted. A hand clasped on his shoulder and he was surprised to see Elphir staring down into him. "You've done well brother," he said encouragingly in a tone that commanded his respect. Elphir had always been excellent at quelling Amrothos' personal fears and misgivings about his capability. "With this knowledge we can start to rebuild the southern most defenses and the places on the palace walls where we're most vulnerable."

"I will send word to Porthil, he will have the emergency plans for re-allocating refugees on file in the palace archive," said Imrahil getting to his feet. "One thing is for certain," he said gravely. His eyes flickered up to Amroth who already knew what was coming before his father even spoke. Amrothos glanced at his two brothers, his father, Eomer and several of the other men sitting the meeting. "No Corsair will set foot in my palace until Dol Amroth is properly defended, we have a lot of work to do at home before I am willing to engage in peace talks."

Slumping back down into his chair Amrothos cast a fearful glance at these maps and then back to his father. At Elphir's dismissal the rest of the men began to trickle out until at last Erchirion was pouring goblets for his two brothers, father and King Eomer. "Father if King Elessar wants the Corsairs to meet at Dol Amroth there is little you can do to prevent him," said Erchirion as he sat back down on Eomer's other side.

Running a hand over his worn face, Imrahil nodded. "Yes I am aware. Still he must allow some time for us to prepare. I won't have those men in my palace while half the countryside is stationed in refugee campsites in our practice yards. There is also another matter left for this more private group," he added.

Sitting up Amrothos clutched his fingers tighter around his silver goblet. "Father?" He asked.

"Lothiriel will not return home until I know the palace and surrounding grounds are safe. And you," said Imrahil pointing to Amrothos. "Will not breathe a word of it to her until after I've spoken. I don't care if she's to stay in Minas Tirith for another three years, Lothiriel must remain safe."

Grumbling Amrothos nodded and felt the pressure of his brothers' stares on him. Keeping a secret from Lothiriel was going to be almost as impossible as holding one's breath under water for more than three minutes. It was possible but incredibly foolish. "Father, I," but his feeble protest was immediately cut off, and not by the person he expected.

"Brother you know why," said Erchirion cryptically and in a moment of sheer panic Amrothos turned his eyes to see the confused glance flicker onto Eomer's face.

A warm hand rest on his shoulder again and he looked to see Elphir. There was a sort of sympathy radiating in his eyes and he gave a gentle shake of his head. Again the temperament of his eldest brother suffocated the impending panic as the memory rolled around in Amrothos' mind. Elphir did not speak a work but rather inclined his head toward the inquisitive king of Rohan and Amroth swallow his next comment. There were some things better left a secret.

"Eomer if you would walk with me to the family house I have several things I wish to address with you," said Imrahil and he clutched his cane as he rose to his feet. Amrothos watched as the two men departed the room and he rounded on his brothers.

"That was a fine time to bring that up," said Elphir turning his glare to Erchirion. "Why not request the herald to proclaim to the entire city!"

Holding his hands up in clear defense Erchirion still leaned forward in a move of clear aggression. Amrothos rolled his eyes and began to roll up the maps and shove them haphazardly back into their carrying tube. "What else could I have said?"

"Leave it for father to address, this isn't one of us we speak of. Bringing this up now when father is just recovered and in front of King Eomer no less."

Erchirion's face drew into a snarl; he never took well to being patronized, even by his own brother. In fact, Amrothos reckoned, especially by Elphir. "Judging by the glances he afforded her at the docks the delicate King has more than a passing interest in our sister."

Now Amrothos' head snapped up and curiosity overwhelmed his desire to stay out of the argument. Erchirion was terribly observant; it was what had made him an excellent guard and an even better foot soldier. If he had seen something between Eomer and Lothiriel then Amrothos was on good authority to trust the judgment. "You fib," he said still deciding to goad Chirion into spilling more information than necessary.

Elphir had flushed a rather unbecoming shade of beet red and this only served to put fuel to Amroth's fire. "There has been a surprising amount of interaction between the pair yes," said Elphir.

Running his fingers through his hair Amrothos chuckled and tried to imagine fiery Lothiriel with the King he now called a friend. It seemed he would have to hunt down Eomer and pry what little information he knew he would receive. "How very unusual," he said and slung the map case over his shoulder. "What has already been said cannot be undone gentlemen, brothers," he said with a genial grin. "Perhaps if you are still feeling the need to vent such masculine aggression we can remove this spat to the practice courts, I have been anxious to thrash Elphir since our last match."

The words had done the trick and the rare spark of challenge came to Elphir's eyes. "Perhaps I could be talked into forcing your surrender," he drawled with a small grin.

"Or run along to Endelen so she might nurse his bruised ego and backside," said Amrothos as he started for the door. Something hit the back of his head rather sharply and when he turned around he found one of Elphir's heavy gloves lying on the floor.

"Consider the challenge accepted," he said and motioned to the open doorway. "Shall we brothers?"

**Well every family has its secrets doesn't it? I promise it's nothing too cliché or heart wrenching or icky. Think of this as more of a compulsion to protect Lothiriel rather than protect the secret. All will be revealed in good time! Next chapter should feature Lothiriel and Amrothos, coronations, drunken soldiers and our dashing King coming to the rescue!**

**Remember that reviews are love and I have much love for all of you! -Brose**


	5. Of Coronations and Smiles

**A/N:** **It's here! I have been suffering from massive writer's block coupled with my absolutely insane schedule! Anyway this chapter was next to impossible to write so forgive me if it's not up to the usual standard, I was just desperate to actually get it written. I promise, promise, promise that I have not abandoned this story!**

**Disclaimer: You know what I don't own.**

Chapter 4: of Coronations and Smiles

May first proved to be bright and warm. Heavy rays of sun fell across the Pelennor and over the barricade where the coronation was to take place. The perfect weather was ideal for the crowning of the new king. Scores of Gondorians were crowded along the repaired outer walls and across the plain, all turned out in their best array. Color assaulted from all directions in the form of fine silks, shining jewels and pennants representing hundreds of houses.

Lothiriel sat with her family on a raised platform, her chair covered with brilliant blue silk. A hand rest of her stomach as if it would help her breath in what she felt was the oppressive heat. Amrothos sat on one side and Elphir on the other; a soft win pushed the long waves of her hair across her face but barely rustled her heavy skirts. Silver swans were embroidered all along the bodice of her pale blue gown before giving way to the absolutely magnificent skirt. Her maids had assured her it was easily the most magnificent dress she'd ever worn. Lothiriel was positive that it was without doubt the heaviest monstrosity of a dress she'd ever donned, from the hem of the skirt to the incredibly unforgiving neckline.

"Eru bless I might drop from air deprivation if this ceremony takes too long," she muttered to Amrothos. Her brother quirked a brow upward, a smile slowly arcing at his lips. He was extremely relaxed in his shirt and jerkin; a magnificent deep blue cape was fastened about his neck bearing the great swan ship. "Or heat exhaustion," she muttered and he chuckled.

"If it's any consolation you look quite lovely. No doubt more than one brave knight will fall all over himself to dance with you tonight." A smile was in his voice and he touched her elbow affectionately. Sighing Lothiriel thought with longing for an empty shoreline and a light dress. Just thinking about walking barefoot along the surf set her at complete ease.

"Well they'll certainly try. The first soldier who attempts to compliment my eyes or says my smile shines brighter than the moon shall find themselves showered by the nearest wine goblet." Amrothos' shoulder shook in silent laughter. This caused a long wry smile to take her face.

Leaning closer Amrothos dropped his voice another octave. "I thought women enjoyed being complimented on their delicate features." Lothiriel snorted and Elphir shot his siblings a very stern glance. Squirming slightly in her seat Lothiriel tried to take a deep breath to control her laughter but found that the corset binding her in was too tight to do that. Coughing she held a gloved hand up to cover the motion.

"Perhaps when the compliment is truly intended, not a thinly veiled attempt to get the me alone on a nicely shaded balcony," she said with a scowl.

It was Amroth's turn to slide a little in his chair and try not to laugh out loud. "Quite certainly, as I am a confirmed expert in words to coax women to a balcony. Though I have it on solid authority that private conversations on balconies is an honor you reserve for young kings only?" Turning her head she felt her jaw drop.

Lothiriel's cheeks burned as she flushed brilliant crimson. "I'm going to flay Erchirion," she growled under her breath.

"It might do well if the pair of you would act to your rank or I'll flay you both." Elphir had placed a hand on her elbow and his voice was just above an irritated whisper. The flush on her face deepened to a dark red while Amrothos' grin only widened. Turning her face forward she found her chest moving in silent laughter as Amroth reached out and squeezed her fingers.

Still she was fighting to control her smile as the procession at long last came to view and all the finery of Middle Earth's greatest nobles was revealed. Placing a hand over her corseted stomach she tried to let her eyes move all at once, taking in every sight she could.

Banners representing each realm, each noble house were in long streams of columns and a small escort of soldiers from every house of Gondor wore their finest armor. Pride swelled in her restrained chest as she took in the gleaming silver armor of Dol Amroth, each of her father's soldiers bearing the deep blue cape and swan ship. Erchirion carried the banner for his family, holding the post in the holster on the stirrup of Galendor's ceremonial saddle. Her eyes widened with her smile as she took in his proud stature, from the silver circlet encircling his brow to the high polish of his black boots.

Forward still on the column rode a large party. Immediately she recognized Elessar at the forefront, looking impeccable in the colors of Gondor, his breastplate bore the white tree in mithril, shining in the light. Mithrandir rode to his right and her father on Mithrandir's other side. Again pride rushed her veins as she examined how straight and proud her father rode. There was no trace of seriousness or of pain on his face but rather a relaxed smile and his chin tipped high.

Sweeping to Elessar's other side she took in another familiar form and against her will her heart broke into a sprint. King Eomer's golden hair was shining almost brighter than the gold circlet upon his handsome brow. Even from a distance she could see that the embroidery shooting through his handsome green tunic was gold thread. His stallion, Firefoot if she remembered correctly, moved with easy grace that came with expert hands. His clear blue eyes swept over the crowds before him and though he did not smile, Lothiriel could tell from his relaxed demeanor that he was pleased. Although she had recognized the features before, she could not deny that he was perhaps among the most handsome men she had ever seen.

Then, as if he sensed her unwavering gaze his eyes found hers. Inquisitive blue held her awed green and for a moment that felt an eternity they beheld each other before Elphir bent his head and touched her elbow. At his prompting she tore her eyes away and flicked toward her brother. Lothiriel did not see the slightly crestfallen expression that crossed Eomer's face for smallest fraction of a second. "Those are the halfings, can you recall hearing of them?"

"Pardon?" She asked, dazed from what had just occurred. Refocusing her eyes on the riding procession she skillfully avoided King Eomer and instead moved further out of the column where instead of finding four great geldings she found for small ponies, each trotting slightly to keep up with the pace. Perched upon them were the most curious creatures she'd ever seen.

"The fellow bearing the tree of Gondor is Pippin, and his companion in Rohan's colors is Merry. Samwise is to the far left and next to him is Frodo; they carried the ring to Mordor," he said and she did not miss the tone of absolute reverence in his voice. Bowing her head a little lower she found that all four halflings seemed overwhelmed by the scene unfolding around them.

More names were rattled into her ear as Elphir discretely pointed out members of the guard, elves, and even dwarves. Nothing was left that might surprise her after the shock she'd already received. Try as she might it was impossible to keep her gaze from wandering back to a single fine figure. In her chest her heart was racing, whether from exhilaration or from terror Lothiriel could not decide. She was altogether certain that no matter the cause she wasn't too sure she didn't like the sensation.

X X X X X

The King's hall had been decorated in the colors of Gondor to celebrate the coronation. Garlands strung with white flowers were strung across the ceiling and the tables were lined with massive centerpieces bearing flowers native to Gondor and the linens were rich blue. King and his soon-to-be queen were watching the evening unfold from their chairs, each bearing a merry face.

Eomer wished that he were enjoying himself as much as his dear friend. Instead he tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible, which had proved to be all but impossible. His status as King of Rohan carried more weight than he cared to admit and he found hand after hand presented to him as the night drug on. Was he to dance with every eligible young lady in the whole of Gondor before there was a moment to rest?

Privately he had hoped that Eowyn would take some pity on him and help him escape eager eyes and half formed proposals. When they were younger she had taken the brunt of the responsibility of warding away hopeful would-be wives. Now she was so busy in her own premarital bliss that she barely registered his distress. Instead she was allowing Faramir to sashay her across the wide dance space, a brilliant smile lighting her beautiful face. From his spot half obscured by his Marshals Eomer took a deep drink from his wine goblet, in hopes that the floor beneath him would open up and swallow him whole.

"Some night," a voice caught his attention and he turned to see Prince Amrothos approaching. To Eomer's great surprise there was no woman looped through his arm, only a heavy goblet in one hand and the other purposefully tucked behind his back. The bend of his elbow was meant to take up extra space and impose importance and on lesser men it seemed to work quite well but Eomer knew better. "Enjoying the music?"

Eomer was torn between throwing a grin at his friend and throwing the remnants of his wine at him. Choosing to provide the shadow of a smile he let his back fall soundly against the marble column behind him. "I have been so busy with dancing I've hardly noticed the music," said Eomer in return and Amroth's grin only widened.

"Yes it seems you are part to blame for why no woman has been interested in dancing with me this evening," said Amroth. "For you have great novelty whereas mine has allegedly worn off."

Shaking his head, Eomer ran his hand over his beard. "I sincerely doubt you will have trouble finding warmth for your bed if that be your intention." Casting a superior glance over the floor, Amroth seemed to survey a small knot of noble women before shrugging his narrow shoulders.

"Not any of these women, too much mess and circumstance to worry about. Particularly when it comes to the issue of virtue tied with an angry father." Now his grin took an evil glint and Eomer rolled his eyes, choosing to say nothing in exchange for the rest of his wine. "Though there is one woman I have not seen you dance with yet."

Dropping his head even lower, Eomer found his stomach twisting in dread at yet another woman he had to turn around the floor. He was already uncomfortable with the western style of dancing; adding another stranger to the list was more than he could bear at the given moment. When he said nothing Amrothos seemed to accept this as his waiting for a response or even a name. "My sister looks very beautiful tonight does she not?"

The mere mention of Lothiriel sent Eomer's heart into a sprint he'd scarce known. Much of his mind during the coronation had been devoted not to the great good and glory for Gondor but to the princess in blue. Her gaze had sent waves of an unidentifiable emotion rolling through his stomach. Still, she made him feel rather uncomfortable because she was a mystery for which he had no answer. One moment he felt as if she were the only woman in the entire world and the next he found her as common place as the next pretty face. Imrahil's daughter was a face he had seen so often recently and yet had no idea at all who she was.

Still he followed the direction of Amroth's pointing finger and a frown immediately turned his mouth downward. Privately he wished that Lothiriel had decided to wear a potato sack that covered her from the start of her neck to drag on the floor. Perhaps then it would be easier to ignore her now that he had seen her. Her dress was rich ivory that shimmered gold as she moved, slashed low across her chest and neck, which was mercifully free of the heavy jewels Gondorian nobility preferred. Pearls and crystals winked from the embroidery of her bodice and the cap sleeves gave way to lace that covered her lean arms.

It was with an inward sigh that made Eomer come to another conclusion. Even a potato sack would not suitably cover her crowning assets for the smile on her face was more radiant and attention catching than any gift a low cut and fitted dress could reveal. All of her abundant hair was woven away from her face in small braids and twists, crowned by a delicate circlet. "Quite lovely," he admitted to Amrothos.

Even Eomer was man enough to admit he felt the strange and uncomfortable twinge of jealousy as he noted the hand on her fine waist was attached to a soldier with a rakish smile and grey eyes. The knight bore the silver swan on his armor alerting Eomer to his origin. "She is more than likely dancing with him out of duty." Noted Amrothos as he stopped a passing waiter to relieve him of his wine jug.

The prince poured a generous measure into Eomer's goblet and the king stared at it, still feeling gob smacked by what had just happened to him. How was even remotely possible that he felt jealous of a mere soldier dancing with a woman he barely knew? Taking another deep drink he coughed slightly as the warm liquid rushed his throat. If he did not stop now he would end up with a terrible headache in the morning. "Amrothos," he said in a warning tone to his younger friend.

Shrugging, but with a gleeful expression in his steely eyes Amrothos gestured toward his laughing sister. "The dance is about to draw to a close, perhaps you may relieve her of her duty and avoid a marriage proposal yourself?" Years later Eomer would remember that moment and thank his friend but for now he was loathe to get out of his chair and willingly throw himself into the perplexing situation he'd found himself in.

Still he found himself breaking free from the knot of his men and started across the floor just as the music still. An almighty shuffle of people was happening and he silently thanked his height advantage as he kept an eye on the woman. Lothiriel was bowing to the young man who seemed to be flirting to receive another honor. The closer Eomer came the more he realized her smile was tight and her eyes were strained with the last of her waning patience. "Entreat me to another my lady," the young man was persisting louder than he normally might. Eomer was beginning to suspect the lad was already quite drunk.

"I must take my leave, I have promised my brothers each a dance before the night ends," she tried and there was no mistaking the frosty tone in her voice. A small wave of relief washed Eomer as he realized that not even the seemingly easy natured princess was without temper.

The knight stepped closer to her and Eomer felt his own temper flare as he watched him place a hand on her partially bared shoulder. "One so beautiful should not hoard herself away to her family," he goaded and she had the delicacy to blush at his comment but was struggling ever so slightly to get away.

Mind made up, Eomer strode up to the couple and instead of laying hand on Lothiriel he merely stepped into her line of sight. The way her shoulder slumped in relief at his appearance made his decision all the more easier and he bowed to her. "King Eomer," she said in a clear voice, curtseying quite easily despite the hand on her shoulder.

Startled the knight looked up and blinked several times before bowing to the stately king. "Forgive my intrusion your Highness but I believe I promised you a dance," he said and held out his hand to her.

The knight's hand dropped from Lothiriel slack with shock. With a grateful expression Lothiriel slipped her hand into Eomer's and he closed his warm fingers over her delicate ones. "Forgive me my lady," said the disgruntled knight and Eomer watched as he slunk back to his friends whom were taking great delight in the young man's rejection.

Lothiriel looked up at him confused for a moment before a dazzling smile broke across her face. "Thank you," she said with such sincerity that Eomer was having difficulty discerning whether it was the wine or her presence, which made his heart, beat so fast. "It is difficult to say no to a gentleman in public without resorting to cruel measures," she said edgily.

"Gentleman is not a word that boy is worthy of," said Eomer with a slight growl in his voice. Somehow her hand had found his shoulder and his her waist. Music began to build as other couples took their places on the floor. "Still, one cannot blame his attempts," he added as what he now felt a foolish afterthought.

Tilting her head to the side Lothiriel regarded him with open confusion. "I do not understand my lord," she said but understanding dawned on her and she suddenly flushed a brilliant scarlet. Eomer felt a sense of pleasure inflate his pride as he realized she was deeply complimented and surprised by his comment. The blush coupled with her lack of heavy makeup only served her beauty in his eyes.

"Well, never let it be said that the King of Rohan cannot flatter with sincerity and eloquence," she teased and it was his turn to flush slightly. Her innocence was admirable but he was coming to enjoy her quick wit more than just the delicate blush and wide doe eyes. Eomer never did have the patience for women that giggled and fled before the thought of standing up to a man.

Deciding to let his suddenly buoyant mood get the better of him he took the first turn of the dance and they started about the room. Their steps were in perfect sequence with one another and Eomer found that suffering every other miserable dance that night was worth the opportunity to dance with Lothiriel. Though she moved no more graceful or lighter than any other woman in the room, she seemed to fit well with his slightly larger step, her body not struggling to keep up with his. "You dance well," he commented at a break in the movement.

"Thank you my Lord," she said with a smile. "So do you." There was awkwardness in her voice he had never yet heard and for the life of him Eomer could not figure out why. As they shifted among the other couples he widened the fingers that were on her waist, providing further stability in their turns. Almost as soon as he did this the color in her cheeks went pinker, making the freckles on her nose stand out even more.

Eomer couldn't help it, for the first time in ages his eyes crinkled and his lips arced upward. The smile that took his face was a foreign feeling, an echo of an expression that he wore so often as a child. Still if felt as natural as breathing as he found the grin widening as Lothiriel raised her eyes and smiled back.

X X X X X

Eowyn couldn't deny the slight sting in her heart as she watched Lord Aragorn laugh with his love. Still as she felt Faramir place his hand on her forearm contentment washed through her body. Tearing her eyes away from the royals and to her own prince she smiled warmly as she took in his imploring grey eyes. "Will you not dance my love?" He asked motioning to the music that was beginning to soar through the room.

If she'd ever had any doubts about her agreeing to marry Faramir he dispelled them every day with his kind and gentle nature. Each day spent with him he coaxed her away from her cold reputation and helped to restore the warm woman she was. Smiling came easy to her now, as did laughter. Somehow Faramir had managed to chase away the winter that had claimed her younger years, he had brought sunlight and spring back into her life again. "I do not know the song," she said, yet got to her feet all the same.

"Yes, but that is why you have me to lead," said Faramir with a pronounced wink. Shaking her head she stifled a laugh and followed him to take their place among the other couples. "Tis a very basic step, just follow me."

As the sweet music set a comfortable rhythm, Eowyn allowed her betrothed to lead her about the wide dance floor. Somehow he expertly weaved them through the other couples, as if he were leading her through a crowded battlefield. In some respects the dance floor was quite the battlefield she noted wryly. All about her were eager knights hoping to prove themselves to bright-eyed young women, a few faces she even recognized as men of Rohan. "In Rohan," she commented as they spun about from the outer corner of the floor toward the center. "We dance all together in two lines, switching partners regularly and moving all the same steps at once."

Faramir's smile continued to grace his handsome lips and he gave her an appraising look. "In lines? That doesn't seem quite as effective a means to get close to one's partner." As a way to demonstrate this he pulled her closer, their bodies almost flush against each other. Eowyn knew that she was flushing deep red as his eyes communicated a deeper want, something he had been less careful about masking as of late. Though she could not say she didn't enjoy the attention, Eowyn was greatly anticipating the benefits of marriage just as much as he.

"Ah yet you forget my love that the Golden hall becomes quite hot with all those bodies, forcing couples to take air in the private corners of the terrace." Chuckling, Faramir spun her in a circle before pulling her back into his chest.

A couple flashed by and Eowyn caught the sight of shining dark hair and a green dress. Her eyes followed the couple as she discerned Princess Lothiriel dancing with a rather dashing young knight. Her hair was shining under the chandeliers and her skirts moving breezily about her legs. "Your cousin looks quite lovely this evening," she noted to Faramir who turned his glowing smile on Lothiriel.

Eowyn was pleased to know how important Faramir's ties to his Uncle's family were. As time had passed she'd become immensely fond of Imrahil's family, particularly Lothiriel, a girl cut from he same cloth at herself. "She does, although I'm sure she is not as thrilled about the dancing as I am."

Tilting her head to the side Eowyn watched her a moment longer and found that her smile was tight and her dance partner had just trod on her feet. "I cannot say I blame her," she commented. The knight seemed to be trying to pull the girl closer and for a fraction of a second the careful smile slipped from Lothiriel's face.

Faramir's frown deepened. "The unfortunate price beauty must pay," he muttered and Eowyn's brows slipped up as his grip tightened on her. "At least until bought up by a good and lucky man," he added with a rakish wink and Eowyn smiled.

"Flirtation is considered most improper," she teased and let him twirl her in a quick circle before bringing her back in.

"Hardly a matter of importance to us now. You my dearest had best get used to it." Faramir proclaimed and she let out a squeak as he squeezed her waist.

Rolling her eyes she took the wide turn at ease with him and as the music drew to a close they left the floor arm in arm. "So am I to look forward to all your good manners giving way to roguish behavior once we are united?" She enquired and was pleased to see a very mischievous grin cross his handsome face.

Shrugging his shoulders he lifted two crystal goblets of sparkling wine from a passing waiter. "I can promise that the roguish side of me does not come without benefits." Without thinking she pinched his arm at the inside of his elbow.

"Wraith," she muttered, keeping her twinkling eyes on the newly assembled couple son the dance floor. Still she was smiling and Faramir placed a delicate and discrete kiss to her temple, assuaging the faint worries in her heart.

"I do not fear for a lapse in manners for I shall always have you to keep me in check my love," he murmured into her ear and she relaxed against his chest as they watched the music begin to start.

A clearing in the crowd revealed a sight that shocked Eowyn to her heart. All night she had seen her poor brother bestowed with trembling maid upon maid. At the urging of greedy fathers and insistent mothers Eomer had been forced to dance with almost every eligible woman in the entirety of Gondor. Though Eowyn did feel some pang of sympathy for her brother she was just short of intervening in hopes that he would learn to handle himself in these delicate situations.

Mediating women was just as dangerous as mediating politics, and it was about time Eomer learned how to do both. So it was to her surprise that she watched him take up position with Lothiriel whose smile had been replaced by an open look of confusion. "Eru bless," muttered Faramir who had just seen the same scene unfold before his eyes.

As the music began the couple began to take the turns and Lothiriel's good nature flooded her just as the blood pooled in her cheeks. A few tables away Eowyn noted that Imrahil was watching the same dance with a very pleased expression on his placid face. When she turned back she received the greatest shock and confirmation she'd seen yet. Instead of the usual handsome grave expression that Eomer wore he was smiling, actually smiling.

The light that radiated from the simple smile reached his eyes in a way that Eowyn had not seen for years. "Perhaps he does not know it yet, but I believe your brother has fallen in love," said Faramir into her ear.

Squeezing his hand, Eowyn regarded the smiling couple over the rim of her goblet. "I am surprised to say I agree with you," she said. Through the dance Eomer and Lothiriel spoke to each other at passing moments and his smile did not leave his face until the end of their second dance together when he was obliged to relinquish his partner to her middle brother.

**So I always read stories where Eomer never, ever smiles and he's all stately and grave all the time. I thought for once…why not give him the freedom of emotional expression? It's also midnight as I finish this so that might have something to do with it! **

**Reviews are always love-Brose**


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